


calm after the storm

by jay_lmao



Category: Steven Universe - Fandom
Genre: Angst, Canon-Compliant, Comfort, Fluff, Fluff and Angst, Friendship, One Shot, One-Shot, Post-Episode: s06e19 I Am My Monster, Pre-Episode: s06e20 The Future, Rose's Room, Steven Universe - Freeform, Steven Universe Future
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-25
Updated: 2020-09-25
Packaged: 2021-03-08 04:01:17
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,922
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26639236
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/jay_lmao/pseuds/jay_lmao
Summary: Uncertain about how to cope with his past and present feelings, Steven finds himself meandering into the one room that shows him exactly what he wants.
Comments: 5
Kudos: 19





	calm after the storm

Once upon a time, the sound of the waves put Steven to sleep as easily as a lullaby.

Now it crashed down on his head like the sky when it opened up with rain. And he used to like the rain, too—played around in it like nothing was wrong. Like it was just a consequence of the changing seasons. He could hardly imagine if he could take the sound of rain, since wasn’t even sure if he’d heard it for two months. Two months since he’d transfigured into something powerful. Something ugly, and coated in scales and agony, and the ultimate reflection of who he…

That wasn’t him. He clutched the sheets tightly to try and distract himself, but he couldn’t help but feel as if he were literally clawing at the sheets. Those waves had been one of the few things slowing him down, after all. It had been the sight he’d hung over as he hung perilously over the beach. What he’d sat atop as the ocean itself rose from its craggy bed. The very thing he’d been bubbled beneath when he was young, and dumb, and so much happier.

Once upon a time, the waves could put him to sleep.

He gave it a few more moments, but all it was doing was  _ pissing him off.  _ He could count on the wave’s constancy, hearing them surge onto unwilling sands before disappearing into itself. Over and over again. Steven kept listening for it, kept awaiting for that next crash. If not for that stupid ocean, he should’ve been asleep by now—

Steven gasped softly, realizing he could see the grain of the balcony outside his bedroom. It was in a soft pink light. Pink. He turned down to his hands, and though he had certainly been confirmed that he had no claws, he had trouble accepting the remarkably rosy tiny of his skin. Literally glowing.

Not again. He couldn’t have begun acting up over the mere sound of the ocean, and… and he was sleep deprived. That sounded right. He hadn’t been sleeping since that miserable day. And his therapist mentioned something about that, that a lack of physical sleep and emotional rest very easily threw the body’s systems off-kilter. That inability to rest only led to inability to rest.

Sitting upright in bed, squeezing his arm until he could feel the pulse of his heartbeat beneath his skin. Letting himself stay mad wasn’t going to help. There was a term his therapist had thrown around; he’d only seen her for a month, twice a week, but there was a term she loved. “Emotional regulation,” or something of that sort. Ways to distract his senses until the anger or frustration or anxiety naturally faded.

The first thing he could do was make his way to the bathroom and wash his face. At least after all this time, the gems had finally given him the decency to stop misusing his one private space in the house. Uneasy feet hardly helped, though, as he nearly stumbled as soon as he came to his full height. His complexion briefly flickered to a slightly paler shade. He had a feeling he couldn’t make it trembling down the stairs.

He glanced to the alcove behind his bed. A small plush sat with its head lazily propped against the wall, a flair of gold caught in the unnatural light. 

With a sigh, Steven grabbed it off the shelf by the legs. “Okay, M.C. Bear Bear. You have been one of the few people who’ve failed me.”

As he made it to the other side of the second floor, he reminded himself to take it one step at a time. Both metaphorically and literally. Though as he descended the first few stairs, it was uncomfortable to be greeted with silence. Old boards always creaked. They were splintering, and the sea salt air always found a way between the cracks. 

But these were new stairs. These were installed by Bismuth, barely a month ago. 

Making his way into the main room, nearly crushing poor Bear Bear and his grasp, Steven tried to remind himself that it was over. The gems had forgiven him. Perhaps the town didn’t know just yet, and… and it was over. 

By the time he’d made it into the bathroom, even the simple sight of the tub made his light flare up.  _ Jasper.  _ But she was okay now. Not because he could fix everything, or he should fix everything, but because it was over.  _ It was over. _

He set the plush on the counter, examining the lifelessness in those button eyes.

Steven jammed the faucet knob all the way to the left, leaning over to splash cold water in his face. Then again. It was cool, even if he couldn’t say much else about water. And it was also getting in his eyes, weighing his curls down, until he had to frustratedly brush his hair from his face. Eventually the concern of the waves faded out of his head.

There was still a slight inflammation to his complexion, for the sheer fact he was still a touch mad. Just a bit angry with everything in the world. Mostly himself at this point, but he was trying to forgive. Trying.

A soft hum of gem, tech, though— _ that  _ distracted Steven. The warp had been moved outside after the house was destroyed the first time, so this had to be be the gem’s rooms. Now who in the galaxy would be up at this hour, besides himself…? Granted, gems didn’t need physical rest. He’d spent so much time struggling with human things like sleep and keeping down food, he’d forgotten that gems didn’t need to consider that.

He also didn’t consider that a gem would knock on the door at this hour.

“Yo, I don’t know who’s in there, there was an un-poofed gem that got loose in the basement.” Another faint knock, less confident. “She hasn’t been healed yet or anything, so like, can I get in there to make sure she didn’t try getting out through the toilet?”

Just Amethyst. Steven swallowed, clutching at the edges of the sink. “Just me in here.”

Then silence on the other side of the door. Of course.

“Oh. ‘Sup, dude?” The door bent slightly, as if she were leaning on the door. It was the closest she could get to breaking the unspoken boundary of privacy. “Have you seen Garnet or Pierogi? I think they’re teaching night classes or something at Little Homeschool.”

“I’m sorry. I… I haven’t seen them.” Steven drew in a breath, tracing a droplet as it raced down the side of the basin. He knew this was her form of concern. This was her meaning well, and his therapist said he should try to find comfort in friends.

After everything, he wasn’t sure if they were genuine friends or out of circumstance.

“Guess I’ll go put this thing to sleep myself. Here’s to hoping you get your dumb head back on that pillow.” Another pause, and the door didn’t lighten up any, Amethyst still not moving. 

“You doing alright in there?”

He sucked in a breath, ready to demand his privacy for once. Instead, all of the vigor fell from him and he collapsed forward, muttering. “Yeah. I’m… I mean I’m—”

_ Fine.  _ His lips found the shape of the word, but his lungs didn’t provide the air to say it. He hadn’t been able to say it for a while. At least now he knew that he was lying to himself, and he’d been so used to everyone else lying to him, that he hadn’t recognized his own fraudulence. His throat felt scratchy at the word.

Yet something felt wrong about honesty. So he just opted for, “I’ve been having trouble sleeping.”

Another beat. Perhaps Amethyst was searching for something sentimental and serious to say, something so unlike her usual diction. Instead, their moment was interrupted by a horrible scratching. Something from behind the door. Steven stood alert, instinctually moving to summon a shield— _ could  _ he summon his usual shield?

Not that he even had time to answer that question. The door finally rebounded, whining relief as Amethyst ripped herself away from it. “I think it just got out of the basement. Don’t worry about me—if this thing takes a chunk out of me, just bring my gem to P so she can criticize my new form!”

With that, Steven was alone again, with nothing but the buzzing in his ears. He couldn’t even hear the sound of the ocean. And he  _ hated  _ that, hated how lonely he felt, hated how he couldn’t bare being left alone. Even when he was surrounded by people, he’d been lost in his own head.

He was tired, but at least fighting monsters would let him stay at Amethyst’s side. For the sake of the past and the kid he used to be.

“Wait, Amethyst—Amethyst!” Steven called, slamming open the door.

But the time he was standing in the middle of the kitchen, the door was knitting itself shut. He’d never known it to open for anyone besides the approaching gem. Which meant until whatever was causing a fuss was done causing that fuss, he was alone. Again. Like when he was a kid, and the Crystal Gems left him to his own devices for days on end.

He wanted to be with them. Then he didn’t, wanted no part of their world or their issues, but missed having things to fix. Then he wanted to confront the diamonds, then he wanted to avoid them, and… and…

It was giving him a headache. There was a hum in his ears, a light playing behind his eyes. Pink again. He couldn’t have been this irritated with himself again, because if he corrupted again, only the stars would have him. Yet when he opened his eyes, he was much relieved to find that he wasn’t a radioactive tone.

No, not him. It was the soft light from the other side of the room.

Steven stood, jaw slack and a weight in his stomach, taking in the sight of Rose’s Room. Or Pink’s Room. Or whatever pseudonym it took on, since it had never quite been  _ his  _ room. It was never anyone’s place to be honest. Perhaps it had given him everything he’d wanted, but in the gentle familiarity of those clouds, he recognized the storm he’d once seen in Rose. In himself.

This room had never been a safe harbor.

But now, standing in the middle of a house that had been constructed and deconstructed too many times, he glanced briefly at his gem. He lifted the hem of his pajama shirt to see its glow. Not him in his entirety, but just his gem. A glance back to the room gave him a second thought.

The room gave him anything he wanted.

Steven returned briefly to the restroom to grab M.C. Bear Bear as a first mate, then pattered across the house. It was strange not to have to circumvent the warp pad to get to the door. Though as he crossed that threshold, the door sewing itself shut behind him with its characteristic hum, he knew nothing had changed here.

Which meant everything was different.

He fiddled with one of Bear Bear’s earrings. “Hey, room. It’s… it’s been a while, huh?”

As always, the room itself was completely impassive. It was a servant to whatever destiny its user decided to construct. Something that Steven was all too used to, and the thought of empathizing with an inanimate room felt so comically, realistically like  _ him.  _ He laughed audibly at the thought.

The room didn’t share his humor.

As he stepped forward into the seemingly endless swath of clouds, the floor was light and soft beneath his feet, yet impossibly supportive of his weight. The only sound was something akin to the shuffling of cotton. No waves. No gems trying to wake him up in the middle of the night, and if he began to glow in the middle of the night again, at least anything destructive he did would be impermanent. Though that thought sent a chill down his spine.

It seemed like an excuse his mother would make.

Steven didn’t want to think about that. Though he had once come into this room to encounter Rose, or at least his fantastical image of her. Pink Diamond had more thorns than her name would suggest.

With a furious shake of his head, curls still damp from his first attempt to calm down, he figured this wasn’t worth the time or stress. He turned heel to make his way back into the far more substantial house. But all there was, to his dismay, was more clouds. Perhaps he really did want to be alone.

By the stars, what did he  _ want? _

Or at the very least, what would his younger self want? Something stupid and childish, a distraction from himself, for himself. Whatever came to his mind first. Yet he couldn’t think of anything original.

With a sigh, he settled for, “I wouldn’t mind a tiny floating whale right about now.”

Tucking Bear Bear beneath his arm, he grabbed the whale between his hands. It was much smaller than her remembered. Grinning eternally, though, the whale seemed unaffected by the threat of being crushed by a tiny tyrant.

Steven shook his head out again. He  _ really  _ had to stop thinking of himself like that.

“Do you know what I want, Tiny Whale?” He asked, pressing his nose between the whale’s eyes. “You’re like… the room, but as a person. Or animal, I guess. So you should know what I want, right?”

It only let out a depressingly cheery note. This was not giving him as much satisfaction as he was hoping, and he certainly didn’t feel any more tired. He waved away the whale, and the room took the hint and let it fade into clouds. 

Maybe something more mind numbing would help. There was a time, back in the barn, when Peridot had rewatched that single episode of Camp Pining Hearts more times than would’ve been healthy for any organic being. That was something he wanted to sleep through.

At least that was one want. “Show me the first episode, room.”

As easily as that, clouds swarmed and produced a television—the one from his old room, misused like a punching bag and left full of cracks. He promptly leaned back, requesting the cushiest loveseat the room could produced. It complied. And for a good few minutes, Steven watched the opening sequence of the color (colour?) war episode. 

Except with the waves, he knew every line by now. He anticipated every bit of blocking from the actors, where the VHS tape would blur out from age and its components falling out. The room even skipped the parts he had nodded off during.

Despite the blush pink cushions and a plush under his arm, he wasn’t feeling any more exhausted. Or content. Stars, what was going to put him at ease?

Granted, he was well aware that the room didn’t have a consciousness. It couldn’t want anything for itself. He’d learned that well enough after the Connie incident, yet the thought wouldn’t leave his mind. The room gave him anything he wanted. So in one way or another, that would have to mean…

Steven sunk back into his chair, tilted his head back towards the seemingly infinite heavens, and asked plainly, “Just show me what I want, room,”

The room didn’t respond. Could an insentient space be aloof, or was condescending the right word? Steven rose to his full height, kicking a cloud that had started to form at his ankles. He wasn’t sure why he’d ever come here. This place had always been useless, as good as an unplugged mini-fridge.

“I’m trying to deal with  _ real  _ feelings, for once in my life, and I still can’t get anyone to listen to me!” He turned around, hands curled beneath the edge of the loveseat—and he flipped it into the air.

It tumbled. Then promptly burst into a puff of clouds. Of course even his rage had no effect here, anger at something that could never respond. A kind of anger he had become used to. Yet he still felt the urge to turn back to the skies and belt,  _ “Just show me what I want!” _

The room was graced by a rumble of thunder. The clouds turned from helpless pink to a dusty temper. Maybe it was finally going to fight back, maybe this was what he wanted. Another foe to contest in one way or another. Or so he thought; when another rumble shook the room, tossing Steven off his feet, he glanced down to find the door gaping open. And then the room shook again.

M.C. Bear Bear fell from his hold, and disappeared through the door, into the house.

Steven gasped, chest tightening, throwing himself on the floor afterwards. He wasn’t going to willingly lose this aspect of his childhood. Though the clouds hurt on impact. Pushing himself up onto his hands and knees, the door was… gone. 

“What in the—” Another burst of thunder that sent him back flat on his stomach.

Then the room began its deletion. It started in the distance, an inconspicuous selection of clouds, from a ceiling that shouldn’t have existed. Then is climbed down the walls. All that was visible from beyond was the void, with lightless stars that were closer to splatters of paint. Then the floor beside him.

Another quake took over the room, and Steven held onto his jagged little edge of reality. Not again. This happened when he asked the room to take on too much. And it was horrific, and all he could think of were the faces of friends that didn’t look quite right. People only existed in one way in this room.

And right now, Steven only existed in fear. The rosy glow proved it.

“Show me the door, room.” He said to himself, but the command quickly turned into a mantra as he repeated with increasing panic, “Show me the door, show me the  _ real door to my real house!” _

His little piece of the world was erased. There didn’t seem to be any gravity here, and even though he tried to keep his thoughts light to keep himself afloat, he was going to fall like a stone. Dense and unbreakable as diamond. The floor was coming up all too quickly. 

Until a secondary hole cropped up in the void—the  _ door. _

And Steven tumbled through, falling rear over his head several times over, the world turning into a vertigo nightmare. He finally stopped upon hitting the kitchen table. Or he was sure enough he’d hit the table, given that was where he’d come to a dead stop. And it was the piece of furniture he was currently casting light over. It hardly helped that Amethyst stood dead overhead, some small gem like a Ruby bubbled in her palm.

For a moment, all they could do was stare while the gem sang out with static.

* * *

“All tech gets cloddy when it’s not used,” Peridot explained, bumbling about the greenhouse. “And as much as I hate to say it, even devices meant for the Diamonds eventually corrode.”

Steven noddedly idly as he sat on the edge of a planter, trying to follow along. Though there was something off-putting about Peridot—the gem who had compensated for everything with tech, who thought herself non-functional without limb enhancers—working with plants. He’d helped her get a few gourds sentient quite some time ago, but that was before he quit teaching. 

Quite frankly, he wasn’t sure he could bear seeing any other students. Or any other gems. It was a miracle that the greenhouse was empty this time of day, and a good miracle at that one, since he couldn’t be bothered to get out of his pajama shirt and drawstring pants. Though the sun would come up soon.

“So… can you fix the room?” Was all Steven could pathetically ask.

“Steven, I was a certified Kindergartener. I think I’d know a thing or two about keeping tools in working order.” There was that everlasting spark that Steven knew, the impenetrable confidence of a gem who wouldn’t be wrong. At least until Peridot tone dropped and she admitted, “But this is  _ Diamond  _ tech we’re talking about. Even if it’s outdated, most gems on Homeworld would never have access to it. At least not in Eras One and Two.”

His fingers curled around the edge of the planter, the stone rim willing to fall apart beneath his grip. He needed to breathe. Seven counts in, eight out. He could do this, he wasn’t going to have another episode.

“Peridot,” Steven reiterated, tone even. “If you don’t know how to fix it, you can—”

“And give up the opportunity to see some of the most complex engineering that gem kind has seen?” She let out a snort, flinging her arm with such a breadth that it knocked over a metal pot. She held out a hand to levitate it just inches above the ground. “I told you, even if we can’t fix it, we can always hang out.”

Although the rest of his night had been crummy, this at least put a smile on his face.

His one request was that they didn’t take the warp back to their house; he had came here on foot specifically to avoid casting a beacon of attention. A call for help. Especially since he hadn’t been to Little Homeworld since two months ago. Peridot agreed to take him back to the beach on a personal vehicle she’d put together with Bismuth and Lapis.

It looked like it had been cobbled together with the carcasses of five different motors, and possibly an arcade cabinet thrown in for good measure. At least it got them back to the house without a fuss. Though as Steven disembarked from his seat—slightly dizzy from the uneven ride—he could certainly make out the light in the house from atop the sound dune. That ruined any hope of going unnoticed.

He waited for Peridot to scrabble off, somehow deciding to raise the seat to a point where her short stature wouldn’t let her get off the vehicle easily, and only started heading uphill when her heels hit the sand.

There were already hushed discussions, and Steven could hear them from beyond the door. When the hinges squeaked with the slightest pressure, he had an awful feeling that they’d been unoiled for a specific reason. And everyone heard the door creak open. Amethyst, who was still sitting on the floor and tossing a Ruby’s gem between her hand, Pearl seated on the couch with hands folded, and Garnet standing between them.

_ “Oh.”  _ Pearl stood, but her hands were still intertwined. “Steven, we were wondering where you were! It’s not like humans to go wandering off in the middle of the night, is all.” She let out that nervous laugh, trying to be casual in a sweet if unsuccessful manner. “Sleeping and all that.”

“Peridot’s following him,” was all Garnet could offer. Even though her gaze was obscured by her visor, Steven had learned to recognize when the fusion was looking at him. “And you’re going to want to avoid taking that car back to Little Homeschool. The arcade cabinet she used for the electronics is short circuiting.”

The door creaked behind all of them, punctuated by Peridot’s nasally complaint of “I would appreciate if you didn’t ruin the surprise of me being here. I recognize that I’m not always wanted, but everyone wants a surprise.”

“I didn’t realize we were having guests,” Pearl stated with disinterest, though Steven knew well enough that it was a relief. Though her concern piqued again as she asked, “Though what are you doing with those jumper cables?”

Steven let out a small hum of surprise, watching as Peridot stepped across the kitchen, dragging a wheeled toolkit behind her. A handful of loose wires were falling out of an overstuffed drawer. She looked all too happy to explain, “Some of Earth’s tech has been much more advantageous than I initially gave it credit for.”

“I-I was in Mom’s room,” was all Steven offered, interjecting before any of the gems could ask questions. Though that only seemed to make their eyebrows raise further. “Amethyst could tell you. It just seemed to be glitching out so… I asked if Peridot could come over.”

A pause, as he scratched the back of his head. “To help, I mean.”

“Some of the Diamond tech became… what do humans call it? ‘Open source?’” Peridot stopped before the temple door, glancing upwards as it refused to recognize her. “It has gem identification modules! This is Era One tech, Steven. Are you sure this can produce a different environment for each user?”

“I… never did know how it worked.” Steven took a step ahead, flinching as his gem glowed, within proximity of the temple door. Its facade faded away into its usual clouds. “But I know something isn’t working.”

“But I should have it functional in short order,” Peridot declared, patting her toolbox as she dollyed it inside. “The lovable leader of the Crystal Gems has not lost her ability to command just yet!”

Steven was just about to follow in after, but he seemed stuck to the floor, held in place by someone else’s gaze. He eventually turned around to find the first three gems he’d ever met staring back. What in the galaxy was he supposed to say? It wasn’t as if he were doing anything wrong just… just trying to fix something.

Or maybe that was wrong to begin with.

“It’ll be real quick, guys,” he promised. And he crossed over into Rose’s room.

The peacefulness of it all once again seemed like a fever dream, leaving Steven all too light in the head as he marched ahead. No deletions in the world. The floor was solid, not threatening another earthquake to remind him of all the bad things he’d ever dealt with. All that was new was Peridot milling about, occasionally obscured by a cloud, but a flicker of pale green hair always denoted her position. Which was delightful—given she was already all too far ahead in the room.

She was already leaving a trail of screwdrivers, occasionally picking a tool out of her box and stabbing at the floor. The clouds only recoiled it back into her nose. It was… a curious affair, to say the least.

After attacking the room with a pair of wire strippers, Peridot stood to her best posture and proudly declared, “Well, I can see the problem.”

“Really?” Steven sighed relief.

“Yes. It’s actually quite simple.” Peridot gestured to the entirety of the room, the soft pink aura staring back at them with the same amount of interest as a stale bagel. “This place doesn’t have a control panel.”

“Oh, I’m the control panel.” Steven felt that awkward weight in his stomach again, that constant knowing that he would always be out of place, gem or no gem. “It’s like… This room manifests what I want. I just give it a command, and the room makes it.”

A scheming glint came into the corner of Peridot’s eye. “Anything?”

“Well, almost. It’s not permanent. And you can’t eat anything—but, well, you don’t like eating.” Steven scratched at his chin, finding unshaven stubble. Had he really been neglecting that? “Though if I wanted… I don’t know, a slice of pie or something…”

Steven held out a hand, and a plate manifested, a dainty cut of key lime sitting atop it. Peridot’s face twinged with the reminder of his first nickname. Though she seemed to get some minor satisfaction as he careened it towards his face, only for it to puff away into clouds. She nodded dutifully, taking mental notes.

“Is there anything the room  _ can’t  _ produce?” She mused.

Steven glanced around, assuring himself that the place wasn’t falling apart at the seams again. “Definitely. I once accidentally asked the room to replicate all of Beach City, and it managed, but everything turned into some old horror film.”

Peridot nodded, taking one final glance around the room for clues. “Then we need to retrace your steps and see if you asked the room for too much. It’s basic scientific principle to take observations first. I picked that up from one of Earth’s local ‘science fairs,’ though its participants were awfully small for humans. And their discoveries seemed to be repetitions.”

“Peridot, Connie told me that science fairs were for…” Steven sighed, laughing to himself. At least gems screwed up in their own ways. “Nevermind. But you’re right. From the top, I asked for a tiny floating whale.”

It appeared with its usual tiny glee, but disappeared as Steven said, “Then I didn’t.”

“Afterwards, I asked the room for somewhere to sit…” He tilted back, and immediately, the room responded to his trust fall by propping that same loveseat beneath him. He waved his hand as the television sprung into place, continuing, “Then I asked for that episode of Camp Pining Hearts.”

(“I can’t believe I watched that episode,” Peridot muttered under her breath. “That was unadulterated filler content.”)

He stood again, remembering his frustration, the way he flung the chair across the room. That his rage wasn’t completely resolved. He opted to simply explain, “Then the chair got turned into clouds.”

“The room can handle that, clearly,” Peridot muttered, watching another burst of clouds.

“Exactly. Things went wrong when I asked it…” Steven swallowed, clarifying before he could spark another issue, “I don’t want it now, but I asked the room to show me what I wanted. Really, really wanted.”

Peridot shuffled her feet, rapping on the side of her toolbox with thought. Her brows pinched together behind her visor with frustration. At least her eyes went wide with some kind of surprise. Or realization. She turned to Steven, an unevenness in her movement, so unrelated to the confidence she usually carried herself with.

“I have a theory,” Peridot began.

Steven shrugged; it was farther than he’d gotten. “Shoot.”

“Steven, I’m going to need you to ask the room to produce nothing.” When Steven just blinked at her, she awkwardly tensed her hands before elaborating, “Ask the room to show you nothing. I want to see how this kind of tech reacts.”

Nothing. How in the world did a room envision what nothing looked like? Even Steven struggled to understand what emptiness looked like, always desperate for purpose or at least something to  _ do.  _ He opened his mouth to question the suggestion but… there was concern tilting the corners of Peridot’s mouth.

“Okay,” Steven conceded. He propped his hands on his hips, turning back towards the roof of the room. Clearing his throat, he declared with as much authority as he could muster, “Room, I want you to show me  _ nothing.”  _

At first, the room remained stoic.

Then the walls started turning to void.

* * *

Steven wasn’t sure when Peridot grabbed her toolbox again, but by the time he assuaged himself, he recognized he had hammers and loose wires jabbing at him from every angle. Peridot was caught in a tangle of her own on the other side of the room. Pearl and Amethyst were doing their best to loose her from that mechanical trap.

Garnet helped Steven upright in a single jerk.

“Steven,” Peridot began, freeing herself from the last handful of electrical tools. She glanced at him once again, with almost…  _ pity.  _ “Could you reiterate the directions you gave to the room?”

He took in a deep breath, but his voice came out as mousy as he admitted, “I… I told it to show me what I wanted. I couldn’t decide by myself, so I just… figured that the room would know by now.”

“Well, after that trial, we can safely assume that the room cannot produce a concept of ‘nothing.’” She dusted a piece of dented metal off of her shoulder. “The room isn’t experiencing a short circuit. It’s more likely that it’s coded to avoid production of non-matter.”

Steven could feel a tint across his cheeks, choking on his words as he asked, “Peridot what… what are you saying?”

“You asked the room to show you want you want, right?” She reaffirmed gingerly. And though she kept her tone even, had learned to respect the emotions of others, her words still cut like knives as she reached her conclusion.

“The room can’t show you what you want, because it can’t replicate what doesn’t exist.”

* * *

Nothing.

Steven decided to spent the next few days in town, if only to get as far away from Rose’s room as possible. After all of his encounters, he still hadn’t learned that the room spelled nothing but trouble. Spelled, he thought, was a comical phrase. It should’ve meant something was easier to read. Which was exactly the thought pattern that led him to the Budwick Public Library. 

At least the last time he was here, he was in search of  _ something. _

Instead, he ended up wandering between the stacks, a member of staff every so often coming by to ask if he needed anything. Was looking for anything in specific. He couldn’t even think of if he wanted a particular title at this point, so he just sent them off politely. 

He eventually stumbled into non-fiction. The first few rows were primarily self-help and… well, he’d had enough of the gems trying to suggest that to him. Maybe another time. Wandering through the stacks, the numbers continued to crescendo all the way into the nine-hundreds. Nothing seemed particularly interesting, though, but he also never quite read anything that wasn’t fiction. What in the world was fiction, though, when his life was this bizarre?

Glancing upwards, he was sure that this would be the end of the line. Though he caught a title with a familiar name on the top shelf. He jumped up, floating briefly to read through all the spine labels. This seemed to be a sort of travel section. One of them had Empire City!

That was a time and a half. He took the book down with himself, flipping through the book in the middle of the aisle. Stars, he missed the lights in those streets. And part of him did really miss the lights of the city. What he wouldn’t do to get lost in those streets again, a dapper suit jacket over his shoulders…

He turned back to the shelf again. A few books down was an entry on Jersey, though the artwork on the side made the state look more appealing than his dad had ever described it. He jumped up again to get a look at that one. Though as he settled down, he caught the tail end of another title, something about a west coast state. He took that too, and…

By the time he’d decided he’d taken enough of a look, a majority of the shelf was missing. Though it was good to at least look. Even if he’d been to Homeworld and back, he hadn’t seen much of Earth outside of gem locations. Perhaps it would do him good to see all of it one day.

There couldn’t have been nothing on an open road.

**Author's Note:**

> (hey, thank you so much for reading to this point! this was my first fic after like... gosh, maybe eight years? this was definitely an experimental go for me, but i really miss the show and figured i might as well indulge myself a little bit ;w;"
> 
> if you liked this fic, please feel free to leave a comment or kudos! additionally, i mostly work on original content over at https://inked-foundry.tumblr.com/ if you want to see some unadulterated writing chaos!)


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